Kansas City leaders may have shuttered the brothels and torn down the stockyards that once defined the town--and the mobsters may have blown themselves up in disco bombings back in the '70s--but there are still plenty of stories to tell...

In a phone interview, he insists his latest album, L.A.X., will be his final one, and he sounds as if he's fishing for praise when he explains why: "'Cause, see, you guys don't need me anymore. You got all these other wack rappers that you love so much."

Just like electric blues, hip-hop reaches a vastly broader, and whiter, audience than ever before. The difference in Seattle is that some of the most recognizable figures are by and large non-black, a fact that makes rappers like Silas Blak concerned.

Something happened on the way to becoming untouchable hip-hop legends. At best, they've reached an artistic cul de sac with their last album, 2007's 8 Diagrams. At worst, they're irrelevant. To find out why, you'll have to choose your own adventure.

J-Kwon is merely another pinky-ringed cog in the ambitious machine known as the Hip-Hop Summit Action Network. The organization is a noble, unprecedented attempt to enchant the disenchanted. Can it succeed?

Jaz Brewer has engineered albums for some of the biggest names in Kansas City rap. Some songs that Brewer has produced have made it to the city's only commercial hip-hop station. The vast majority, however, have not, and it's not because they aren't up-to-par productionwise.

Earlier this year, the group released its latest Russian-language work, Comrade Ambassador, via American distributive channels. Mumiy plans to release an English album before long; in the meantime, the band hopes to win over a new audience with its U.S. shows.

"Mean Melin. Mean Melin. Mean Melin," the crowd chants. They're cheering for a guy who just pretended to play guitar -- and rocked their fucking faces off. Mean Melin throws up the devil horns. He's going to the U.S. Air Guitar Championships in Washington, D.C.